


Living

by liobi



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Other, Yeerk POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:50:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1860357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liobi/pseuds/liobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whether Yeerk, Andalite, or Human, all creatures have their own difficulties, goals, and desires.</p>
<p>
  <b>Tyler Peterson is your host. A controller. You are Tarra four-seven-three. A reasonably good Yeerk computer engineer.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roachpatrol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roachpatrol/gifts).



The alarm rings at precisely 7 A.M. You open your eyes, vaguely aware of a headache coming on. Irritating. Tyler assures you that they are normal if you do not get the right amount of daily fluids, and that they will get much worse if you ignore them after that. 

You blink.

The light coming through the window would be blinding if not for the half-closed shades. The room is small, you notice once again. A double bed, a desk with a computer, a nightstand with an alarm clock that you promptly turn off, and a closet. You stretch before seeking out the bathroom, slightly unsteady as you stand. Across from your room is the small bathroom, and you quickly shower and brush your teeth. Your breakfast consists of toast and coffee. At 8 A.M. you leave for work.

You bike there. The cool morning air feels surprisingly good against your face, your skin, your eyelids. You pull up to a small, unassuming office and lock your bike to the rack. You mumble a few polite greetings as you head back towards your workstation in the corner. 

Your supervisor says you’ve improved the last few months. You’re not slacking as much, you’re not getting into fights, you’ve improved. You’re grateful for the praise. You don’t get much anywhere else. Here, you’re just a simple software engineer. Fairly young actually, and fairly gifted even before. You work for a small security company that, if rumors are to be believed, is about to be acquired by one of the biggest names since the invention of the internet, and your work is key to that. And so, you begin.

_What the hell is that?_

You know that it’s a simple decoy protocol, designed to look as if it’s giving off important information while ruining the intruder’s terminal. So simple, that you don’t even bother using this kind of system anymore.

_You are so full of shit if you’re going to call something like that simple. Damn, I can’t even figure out how you’d get around that. Wait I think… Nope, no clue._

“You’re rather active today.”

_Well yeah, this is the most interesting thing you’ve done since dragging me to an alien pool-party._

Perhaps introductions are necessary. Everyone addresses you as Tyler Peterson. But people who really know you call you something else.

Tyler Peterson is your host. A controller.

You are Tarra four-seven-three. A reasonably good Yeerk computer engineer. Which is why you have this host.

The headache worsens slightly.

_I told you, drink more water. Migraines are even less fun when I can’t fix them myself._

You buy a bottle from the vending machine. With a second thought you buy a bottle of Ibuprofen from the one next to it. You pop four, swallowing it down with some water. 

_So, really, what’s with the sudden advanced programming shit? I thought you guys were all about deep-cover and all that._

You had heard stories of how humans reacted to being controllers. The Gedd were different, docile by the time you got your first host. Your brood-mates had assured you that even though they may be noisy hosts, humans were no harder to control most times. You just needed to learn to put up with the whimpering, unless you got a volunteer. But this human, he was strange. Wasn’t a volunteer, but he stayed quiet most days. Didn’t have any family. Content to watch you. To observe. To be honest, it unnerved you slightly. But every so often he would emerge.

\---

The first time had unnerved you the most.

_Hey. That girl, over there. She likes you. Or me. But you, I guess, in this instance._

Your hand tightened on the glass bottle ever so slightly. You had been invited by your coworkers to get a drink. It was important not to draw suspicion, so you did. The bar was loud though, and the cheap neon signs flickered unpredictably. The only reason you were here, apparently, was because the drinks were cheap. 

_Hey. T. Tarra. Earth to Tarra. Tarra four-seven-nine._

“It’s four-seven-three.” you shot back reflexively.

_Touchy much? Buy her a drink._

“Why?”

_You’ve been inside my memories, dumbass. Don’t you need to keep up the façade or something?_

“Your point?”

_When someone’s interested in me, I generally buy them a drink. See how she keeps looking over here? Yeah, she smiles and stares for a little bit and then looks away again. Buy her a drink. Better yet, go over there and say hi._

“I have no reason to.”

That would have been that. However, fate wasn’t so kind. Carmen, Tyler’s best friend, elbowed you. She was slightly more intoxicated than you as well. “She likes you.”

“So?”

“So, I haven’t seen you get laid in like a month! The hell is wrong with you? You dating someone?”

You should have said yes. “No.”

“You turned down the guy a few nights ago, and the one woman a couple weeks ago, what’s wrong with you? Did you have a scare? If you want to get tested I’ll go with you, you know that.” 

“God, no, it’s not that.” You really didn’t need Carmen to think you’re some kind of human venereal disease carrier. “I’m just…” She looked at you expectantly. “You know what? Fine.”

_There you go._

The girl was pleasant as far as humans go. But one thing led to another, and you woke up in her apartment, draped in some sort of lingerie you were relatively sure you were not wearing before. You had to admit that human reproduction was certainly interesting, if nothing else. 

You and Tyler had conversations after that. Not often, but you had them. 

They ranged from many different topics; what did space look like? Did Yeerks have a religion? What was an Andalite? What were the aliens that were always around the Yeerk pools? 

_Are you male or female?_

This one was unexpected to you. “I’m a female.”

_Does it bug you? Excuse the pun._

“What?”

_Being in a male body, I guess._

“I do what is needed of me. What I’m ordered to do. The sex of my host body isn’t important. Does your sex bother you?”

_Not… Well… Sometimes, I guess._

“Why?”

_I just never felt comfortable with it, I guess._

You thought about that. “It must be strange to be a human.”

_Says the slug literally wrapped around my brain._

\---

Time passes, and the project nears its completion. More of your coworkers become controllers. Security tightens. Visits from a well-dressed, older man become frequent at the unassuming office, and somehow he unnerves you. You’re never in a position to talk with him, however, that’s done by someone higher than a mere four-seven-three. You’re just here to program. 

One night, everything changes. You stay late to finish up some of the work. You’re nearly done when you hear crashing somewhere nearby in the office. Gunfire sounds as something roars in the near distance, and the plaster explodes inwards as a bear, a tiger, a gorilla, a wolf, and an Andalite storm into the room. 

_Looks like the circus is in town._

You’d heard rumors about the Andalite guerillas that had caused so many problems for your forces. You certainly never thought you’d see them yourself. You were just a lowly computer engineer. 

They force you away from your terminal as the one in Andalite form, very young by the looks of it, spends only minutes reversing months of your work. You watch in horror as your greatest achievement is turned towards Yeerk systems and set loose. It was designed to give off false data while deleting the important components of the infected system, and now you watch it do that to all the Yeerk networks. 

Satisfied with what they have done, the Andalite scum retreat. Shortly after, a well-dressed, older man surrounded by troops human and otherwise enters. He stares at you, growling, and his skin ripples. It’s horrifying to watch really, but the man slowly stretches and twists into a more familiar shape, one rather iconic. Visser Three.

_Tell me. Did you do anything to stop these Andalite bandits._

You swallow. “No Visser. I was unable to—”

_Silence. I have no need of failures._

Your human eyes barely track it, but you see his tail strike. Once. Twice. Three times. All in an instant. The front of your shirt feels wet, and you’ve become vaguely aware of the pain in your chest. You look down to see a large gaping hole where your heart should be. Visser Three walks off, uninterested in your death. You fall to the ground.

_Well Tarra four-seven-three, it looks like this is the end._

“Yes, Tyler Peterson. It is.”

Something like a chuckle comes from the back of your mind. _It was interesting. Living with you._

As your vision goes dark, you feel like that’s the highest praise you’ve ever received.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Roach!


End file.
